


Taps

by Feelysonheelys



Category: The Aquabats! Super Show!
Genre: A preverbal robot, Gen, Jimmy's childhood, Nonverbal Communication, brief themes of loss, sweet wholesome robot family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 05:10:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15965390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feelysonheelys/pseuds/Feelysonheelys
Summary: Martha Goodman reflects on the moment her life changed.





	Taps

James was not built with the intention of creating a sapient life form. He was not, however, an accident. Martha Goodman would maintain that until the end of time, goldarnit. Calling her boy an accident was just too close to calling him a mistake, and there would be no calling James a mistake. He was a miracle.

Ralph had been grinning something fierce when he first showed his wife the finished JAMES model. It was a mighty fine piece of engineering, he’d expressed, and was sure to cut their combined farm labor in half, leaving ample time to continue maintaining the homestead and conducting research. Neither of them could have known just how much more the robot would bring into their lives.

 

Martha tapped absently on the desk as she sat at the computer. It had become a habit of hers when she was restless; two long taps, followed by a short one and another long one before repeating, almost to the beat of a wedding march.  
It was these taps that she had held with her on the bedpost on sleepless nights after James left home, the same taps that she and Ralph would touch softly on each other’s shoulders during the long year that had passed since the last news regarding the whereabouts of the Aquabats.

The rhythm was a reminder of simpler times. Happier times. It was what put her where she was now, hopelessly reading speculative articles on where the ragtag band of super heroes might be found floating out in space. It was the beat that had signaled change.

  
It had been the main sign that James had become something entirely new. Not only had he begun to communicate through nods and arm gestures, he seemed to be developing language, despite the lack of any vocal processors. It was his barometric sensors that produced the controlled beeping noises he had begun using to indicate certain things. An apple was a single short chirp, with an elongation indicating more than one fruit. Trees were three quick clicks, and rain was a soft drone. He even had a noise for apologizing— beep-click.

Most notable, however, was his system of names. He indicated himself with an imitation of his startup noise, referred to Ralph with a single low beep, and Martha with two higher-pitched beeps.

Ralph was floored by this sign of his creation’s development. His artificial bone growth experiments were indefinitely put on hold as he shifted the focus of his research to his robot. Through interaction, if became evident that the machine was not only capable of independent thought and adaptation, but of feeling and understanding emotion. His activity and mood were greatly increased when he had the opportunity to interact with his creators, and he displayed pride when praised for a job well done in the orchard or displaying mastery of a new task.

It was this pride that inspired Martha to become James’ teacher. The robot had an innate love of learning, and devoured every piece of information available to him. He required no tutelage in Math or English; he was programmed as a sufficient calculator with an advanced vocabulary of words and phrases to recognize and process in auditory and written formats. Writing, however, was more of a challenge, though not for lack of understanding. His body simply wasn’t built for such delicate, intricate movements as holding a pencil and forming words.

“It’s alright, dear,” Martha comforted as James whined at the scribbled mess he’d left on the paper. “You’re still a young model, Ralph can upgrade your motor skills over time.”

The scientist was indeed putting serious thought into future upgrades for James, but his highest priority was also one that would take a great deal of time: developing a speech processor. No one on the farm was pleased with the communication barrier between man and robot, with James appearing especially frustrated with his own futile attempts to express himself. There was only so much to be said in beeps, and his hand movements were nowhere near articulated enough to communicate in sign.

Martha wasn’t especially fluent in Morse Code, but the moment it crossed her mind she knew she had to teach it to James.

“He’ll be thrilled to be able to talk to us,” she had explained to her husband when the workbook came in the mail, brimming with excitement herself. “And it should be a perfect way to test his adaptability.”

While his bare steel face wasn’t exactly expressive, it was clear that James was thrilled all through the lesson. He would clap and gesture excitedly whenever Martha read one of his own messages back to him, and he stared with awe whenever she had something new to teach him.

“You’re a natural learner, aren’t you?” she remarked. His internal fans whirred at the compliment as he tapped out _THANK YOU_.

Martha wrote out the code as the robot tapped, glancing between the workbook and the robot as she decoded the message. Before she could respond, James was already tapping out a new message, which was painstakingly decoded as _SORRY THIS TAKES SO LONG_

“Oh, don’t you worry about it,” Martha shook her head. “It’s just good to be able to listen to you. Sorry it took us so long to pick up on your talking before. You must have felt so lonely, poor dear.”

James shrugged bashfully. _IT IS OKAY,_ he tapped.

Martha smiled. “You know, I think I could have just died of surprise when I realized that little ‘beep-beep’ of yours meant ‘Martha.’”

James recoiled sheepishly, clutching at his arms as his gaze fell to the floor.  

“...James?”

He continued to hug himself with one arm as he slowly tapped with the other.

 _IT DOES NOT MEAN MARTHA,_ he tapped, before adding _NOT EXACTLY._

Martha’s eyebrows raised as she decoded James’ message. “Oh?” she looked at the robot. “I was sure that was your name for me. Goodness, I’m sorry if I ever—“

James shook his head, putting one arm on hers in an attempt to still her. His other hand returned to the table, tapping out a quick series of letters.

Two long taps. Short, long. Long long. Short long.

Martha dropped her decoding pencil mid-letter. Her free hand flew to her mouth as she began to tremble.

James immediately withdrew his arms, wrapping them around himself and scooting his chair backwards, beeping and clicking rapidly.

“N-no, oh no, honey, it-it’s okay!” Martha managed as tears began to escape. “You didn’t do anything wrong, James, it’s okay! I’m just... happy.”

James didn’t seem reassured until Martha pushed out of her seat and enveloped the robot in a hug.

“Mama,” she whispered. “You’ve been calling me Mama.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this at around 2 am. I couldn’t sleep and it was a concept that needed to happen. 
> 
> Even though he refers to his parents as Mother and Father at the beginning of Bad Apple!, I noticed that he later slips into calling Ralph “Dad” and refers to Martha as “my momma” (and yeah, I mainly imagine it as spelled that way, but the short, repetitive spelling of the four-letter variant worked better here.) So, headcanon ahoy!
> 
> Feel encouraged to leave a comment if you enjoyed.


End file.
